


make me strong (make me bold)

by lameafpun



Series: like a virgin [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brothels, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Smut, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 06:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lameafpun/pseuds/lameafpun
Summary: He comes back, sooner than you thought he would, and that's interesting.(He must really appreciate the effort the interior designers put into the decor.)





	make me strong (make me bold)

Togah nudges you, gesturing toward the door with a lazy tilt of the chin. You catch a flutter of blue cloth in the corner of your eye, the thrill hidden behind an easy smile. 

You lean into the couch — drape yourself against it, really — as your eyes follow him around the room. The rupees exchanged between him and the girl at the desk doesn’t even register; you’re already imagining the silky feel of his hair against your skin (and his skin against yours, but that was a given). 

When he turns to face you, his eyes widen. There was that characteristic jump of his shoulders even as his gaze left trails of heat on your skin. 

Inside, you preen as your stare grew half-lidded. 

Delight gives your steps an airiness as you descend from the multi-leveled couch (all the better to view the possibilities, as Madam would say). His jaw drops slightly, and he stares as if you were Hylia herself come down from her golden throne — just for him. 

Incidentally, one of the attendants had brushed some gold glitter onto you earlier. 

You take the edge of his sleeve in your grasp. Sparks of gold stick to the cloth of his tunic as your hand slides down to hook around his waist, and you know that he’s going to be finding bits of glitter in his clothes weeks from now; your own little mark on the Hero of Hyrule. The thought brings a smile to your face. An ensuing surge of possessiveness brings an unexpected pulse to your crotch. You shiver. Teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

He asks what you’re suddenly so happy about — there had been a shift from sultry to genuine pleasure. A coy grin slips onto your lips. You lean into him, and proceed to be completely honest.

Nothing seems to register after that, focused as he is on your body pressed against his and the sound of your laughter in his ears. 

(You pass others in the hall. Link doesn’t seem to like the appreciative stares he gets, but he can’t help but lean into the way you touch him — and you notice the way he starts to stand at attention. Something to explore later. Actually . . .)

A passing firefly lights up above your head. Coincidentally, you also get an idea. A superbly wonderful idea that guides you to one of the archways in the hall that houses a rather large potted plant. There’s just the right amount of space between it and the wall for two people to slip behind. 

Large green leaves longer than your arm brush against your back as you push Link up against the wood panelling. He looks down at you, flushed, eyes half lidded, hands rubbing circles on the fabric at your hips, and a gust of breath plays across your lips. 

The kiss is soft and gentle, and the balm on your lips tastes sweet and vaguely apple-y. Link likes it, going by the way he leans into you.

Your hands at the hem of his leggings, tracing the outline of the tent in his trousers, is no less sweet. Link likes that as well, and you smile into the kiss as his cock hardens even more against your hand. 

Voices and footsteps enter the hallway, rapidly approaching where you’d hidden out behind the potted plant. Lips now disconnected, you feel Link tense as his stare turns to the edges of the arch. If you didn’t know any better, you might have said that he looked horrified. But . . . 

His trousers hung low on his hips and the heat of his cock burned against the bare skin of your thigh. 

A near gasp escapes him as you fall to your knees, grinning, and lick a long, teasing stripe up the underside before tonguing the head experimentally. Your gaze falls to the thatch of wiry, blonde hair below his navel in a moment of concentration as — 

The footsteps had come to a halt right outside of the archway. Words about camps and information on trade routes (from what you could tell, anyway) was tossed back and forth as a hand settled on the back of your head. 

A pointed glance at his arm had him reluctantly retracting it. 

‘Good boy,’ you mouthed at him. 

His cock throbbed, hitting your cheek and leaving a trail of pre that seemed to be flowing more heavily as the outside conversation went on. 

Huh. 

“The southern camp is the most protected, I —“ 

His cock disappears down your throat with a single movement — a flex of your calves — and he almost buckles. Long, calloused fingers curl around the lip of the giant potted plant, knuckles whitening.

“That idiot doesn’t even comprehend —“

The back of your head brushes against concrete as Link trembles, the image of you mouthing “good boy” on loop in his mind’s eye even as he fixates on your bobbing head. Your pointer and thumb circles around his base, pumping as you drew back, sticking to enough of a rhythm for him to get close. Not too close, though, and he was reminded of his first time here, as you sat back on your haunches and flick your gaze up to him, eyes half lidded, still pumping. 

“What was that?” Confusion. His head jerks up to peer between the leaves, jolting forward as you squeeze the meat of his backside. 

Two figures stand just outside the arch. 

“Did you hear something?” 

Warm wetness was slowly absorbing his shaft. 

“I thought I did.”

Breath catches in his throat. His heart pounds in his chest. 

“Oh, you _thought_? So in not just solid figures are you hopelessly incompetent but in every other area —”

He scrabbles to gain a hold on your hair to push you back at the tell-tale throb in his core, but you bat him away and pull him closer. The muscles in your throat convulse as you swallow around his cock, leaving him panting. A surprisingly sharp canine sinks into his bottom lip. 

It was too short, he doesn’t want it to end just yet. Exhaustion had sunk deep into his bones and he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the allure of a heavenly feather bed after, but just a few more minutes of bliss — 

You _hummed_.

The footsteps had long since faded before he was able to stop shaking. 

There was at least a silver lining, he supposes as you push him down onto a familiarly soft mattress. 

Well-muscled arms wind around you loosely, drawing you close to his chest. The comforter settles on top, enveloping you both in a pleasant softness. Your eyes slide shut. 

He can see you stay this time.

**Author's Note:**

> its ya boi back at it again with the madonna themed smut.
> 
> uh if you've got any criticism or anything pls leave a comment. what worked, what didn't work etc


End file.
